The men I’d put on her would rotate in shifts, so she’d never be unguarded. Ivan for the daylight as he was a changeling, Troy and Jerico chosen for the nights when I couldn’t be nearby. And when I wasn’t in this room, she would know exactly where I was. I wouldn’t disappear like a ghost into the violence of my world. She deserved more than shadows and half-truths.
When her breathing evened out again, I pressed her hand to my chest, letting her feel the beat that had outlived centuries. “You don’t know it yet,” I murmured, “but you belong here. With me. And I’ll make sure the world learns that the hard way if necessary.”
The war could wait; the fucking demons could wait. Even the never-ending vengeance could wait. But her? She would never wait for me.
I would always be here for her when she needed me.
Chapter 6
When I woke, the room was dim and heavy with shadows. The curtains were drawn, and the only light came from the soft glow of a lamp on the far wall. My body felt different, it was still sore, still aching, but not as raw as before. For a long moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened.
The chains that had become part of my life. The constant smell of blood and then the day we were saved, the sound of the men screaming. And then him. Lucien.
My head turned slowly, and there he was. Sitting in the chair beside the bed, broad shoulders leaned back, long legs stretched out like a predator at rest. Except he wasn’t resting. Even with his eyes closed, I could feel the sharp edge of him, the weight of his presence. It rolled off him, heavy and inescapable.
And I hated that it didn’t scare me. Not the way it should have. Instead, there was this strange pull in my chest, like an invisible thread tying me to him. A warmth that made no sense, it’s the kind of thing you feel for someone you’ve known your whole life, not a man who cut you free from chains and carried you like he owned you just a day ago.
My hand twitched, and as if he felt it, his eyes opened.
Dark, too dark. And when they locked on mine, I forgot how to breathe. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he hadn’t spoken in hours.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “You said…” My voice cracked, and I forced it steadier. My throat still feeling raw. “You said you were a vampire. That I was your… mate.” I shook my head. “How is that possible? Vampires don’t exist.”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t even argue. Instead, he leaned forward, slow and deliberate, and when he spoke again his voice was velvet and steel.
“They do. I do.”
“I don’t care what you say,” I forced out. “I don’t belong to anyone. Not you or anybody. I won’t be kept like…like some possession.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “You’re not a possession baby. You’re mine. That’s not the same thing.”
“It sounds the same to me,” I snapped.
He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “You think it’s chains, baby, but it isn’t. It’s our connection. You feel it, don’t you? That pull in your chest. The way your body leans toward me even when your mind fights it. That’s the bond between us. You won’t be able to stay away from me, not without it tearing you apart. The longer you’re away, the sicker you’ll get and so will I. Because you’re mine now and I’m yours.”
The air left my lungs in a rush. Because part of me knew he was right. I did feel something. Something dangerous and raw that scared me worse than the chains ever had.
“You’re lying,” I whispered, even as my pulse betrayed me, thundering in my ears.
He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he’d already solved. “Then why do you want me to kiss you right now?”
Before I could tell him to go to hell, his mouth was on mine.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was consuming, demanding something I wasn’t ready to give, his lips crushing against mine with a heat that burned through every wall I tried to put up. I should’ve fought, should’ve pushed him away, but my body betrayed me. My hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer, even as my head screamed to stop.
And then his hand slid down my waist, over my hip, pulling me flush against him, and the warmth turned into fire.
“Lucien…” My protest broke on a gasp as his mouth moved, dragging down my throat, his teeth grazing the delicate skin there. I trembled, my pulse racing against his lips.
“You feel it,” he murmured, his voice a growl against my skin. “Don’t fight it, Sorcha. You’re mine. Always mine.”
I should’ve told him no. I should’ve shoved him away. But the way his hands touched me, they were firm, commanding, it stripped the fight from me. Each stroke of his fingers on my waist, each kiss trailing lower across my throat, lit me up from the inside.
His palm slid up beneath my shirt, warm against my bare skin. My breath hitched, my body arching into his touch without my permission.
A low sound rumbled from deep within him, not quite a growl, not a groan, but the sound of a man losing his patience. He liftedme easily, pressing me back into the mattress, his body hovering over mine. His eyes burned down at me, darker than shadows, hungry in a way that should have terrified me but instead made my thighs press together.
“You can tell me to stop,” he said, his tone low, dangerous. “But you won’t. Because you want this as much as I do, don’t you baby?”
